The Prince and I
by Shadow-x-Play
Summary: A story a young girl's quest for freedom within the guardianship of an Elven Prince.
1. A Complex Mixture of Consternation

**The Prince and I**

**Chapter One ~ A**_** Complex Mixture of Consternation and Intrusiveness**_

I was in New York. Don't ask me why, I wouldn't fully understand the answer that I would presumably give you. It was something to do with my sister's brother-in-law's birthday? Or was it an engagement party?

The details are irrelevant. All I knew was that I was sat in the far corners of the ballroom, dressed from head to foot in the finest items of clothing I owned and shipped with me half way across the globe for this ravish party here in the 'big apple.'

To be honest, New York had never held any attraction to me. It wasn't this city in particular, not at all, but every god-forsaken city on the planet. To me, they were just immoral concrete squares with drones for inhabitants. Pointless existences. I inwardly despised those who dug up and overturned the grass and soil for slabs of pavement and tarmac. It hit a nerve - a strong nerve. And since I can remember, I've had a hidden loathing for a race that seems to purely exist to destroy the natural blessing that this earth is.

Mankind.

Of course, I would never display these feelings to those around me. It probably holds little surprise when I say that I never had many friends. And even less true friends I might add. So my feelings continued to lay deep inside of me, I never presumed they would surface – even less did I predict that someone would be the direct cause for this, and it not just be the slip of my tongue or outburst of emotion.

To everyone else, I appeared faultless and simple. I was happy and pleasant; never asked too many questions; never asked too few; was always able to make someone smile; had an ability to empathize to those who were crying. At least this is what I had been told on a few occasions when my curiosity had gotten the better of me. It had always astounded me when I have been told of my positive exterior; when inside, I was screaming.

The party was just an excuse for me to get out of the town I live in at home in England as well as an incentive to try and get me to socialize with men from all over the globe. My status had remained single for many years now - again with the surprise, right? Unfortunately, the gathering in the extravagant hall before me consisted of rich, powerful humans who controlled some form of industry dotted around continents. I was yet to spot my family, but then again – I was never one to join in with them on these occasions. As I said, it was merely an excuse.

Only when I caught the sight of a cousin I vaguely remembered from Christmas's past did I stand from my seat and begin to tread the dimly lit hall to the circle of people busy gossiping and gloating their wealth to one another. Their concern for the true purpose of this celebration was never evident whilst out of the company of the host. How utterly charming these people were.

I hesitantly beamed a smile in their direction as I was motioned further towards them by the supposed relative, my eyes focused upon their face under the dark light and I began to doubt their relation to myself. My memories of family became hazy as soon as I got the opportunity to leave home. It would be humane to say I regret this, but their lack of care and affection for me lead me to believe that I would not miss much in their absence.

Before arriving with a painted smile, my attention was distracted by the people stood at the side. I squinted, again the light did not aid my curiosity, but I could have sworn that they were bartering. I saw a few suited servants by their side, opening and shutting briefcases, occasionally swapping them and congratulating their trade by a firm (and what they probably imagined as a 'manly') handshake.

My interest was soon snapped back up to my current situation as I joined the group of unknown foreigners and began the excruciating ordeal of introductions. The trick is to smile, nod and occasionally act as if a name rings a bell; if the party still remains uneasy with your presence, a simple bat of the eyelashes or an extra friendly smirk should do nicely. It was never difficult to manipulate such people into believing you are someone that they need no concern for – especially when they view the _entire_ population (minus themselves) that way.

And there I was, on the verge of commenting upon some insignificant detail of the evening when the lights cut and we were left in black. The shimmering windows reflected shatters of the moonlight as the rain drummed heavily outside, drowned out by the sound of screams and shouts from the confused party within the building. My eyes struggled to adjust so instantaneously but they soon did. I always had a keen sense of eyesight.

I paid little attention to those who were squabbling and scrambling around me, especially as soon as the doors to the far corner of the ballroom were smashed open. The crowd split and edged around the outside cautiously; they were one congregated form of cowardice. My natural intrigue begged me to get a closer look as to what exactly was going on; alas the surge of human bodies escaping the door's perimeter forced me towards the double doors in the opposing corner. _Damn them._

My short stature made little difference – even with my highest heels. I stood on tiptoe with slight difficulty, but like a bird in a cage, I was captive behind these humans. The shock of the crowd died down to a dead silence as I could detect footsteps entering the room – soft, yet definite. They were soon accompanied by multiple deafening thuds of heavier footsteps, incredibly heavier. I needed no boost of height to see who (or indeed 'what') owned those.

Shrouded within the darkness of the hall, I could not make out the features of the beast but it was huge, and it was not human. I was still to see the figure in which stepped in first though. Instead – I heard it.

"Good evening." The politeness of the intruder only rattled my curiosity in its cage and I attempted to squeeze between those around me to get a view, but failure was my result. I closed my eyes; head tilted downwards to block out the surrounding distractions and listened to this imposing character.

"The briefcases." It demanded. My mind momentarily skipped over images of the men previously swapping suitcases in the shadows. It didn't concern me for long – I was far too busy thinking of that voice. It was _entrancing._ It was male; I knew that for sure, at a guess in his mid twenties although my estimation skills have never been something to brag about.

I detected shuffling as I managed to steal a glimpse between an alignment of heads to see the suited men hand over their leathery briefcases to the stranger, and then immediately stand back. On the brink of questioning their sudden loss of authority, my eyes caught sight of some sort of weapon, a sword perhaps, in the figure's grasp; the way in which the blade was held immediately portrayed the stance of someone who knew how to use a weapon and even worse, would favorably do so.

The soft clicking of the briefcases opening were soon interrupted by the harsh slamming of their lids and discard to the marble flooring. The harsh disappointment of the object's contents was noticeable from the wandering eyes of the imposter. And what eyes they were – I had _never_ beheld such a shade of colour before. Amber. Pure amber. If I had not seen them placed within the face of living being I would have mistaken them for gems, pinpointed with deeply black pupils and glittering with the striking moonlight. They were beautiful but fierce - _so fierce_, and the beholder's gaze, darting over the heads of the guests and around the hall, gave me the hint at to what his parting words would be; he began his headfirst stride directly through the crowd towards the door behind me. They split like sheep around a wolf, following one another in a blind panic to escape what they believed to be a threat. Their predictable actions held me back against the wall; I shadowed away from the crowd but still hid. I was not foolish enough to doubt that that blade could easily tear the skin from my bones if it were given the correct provocation.

The weak lighting stopped me from witnessing the true identity of the manlike figure – I was desperately uncertain to call him human – and I convinced myself that to stay ignorant of the beast that followed behind would keep my mind as sane as it could ever possibly be.

The character halted a few paces from the door, gave a nod to the monstrous being over his shoulder and turned to once again scan the occupants of the room. The beast knelt slightly and placed a large, peculiarly decorated chest on the ballroom floor and stood up with a satisfactory grunt.

"It is not here Wink…you know what to do," the male figure turned away from his hellish servant and headed straight for the doors, until his stride broke in front of me and his sudden halt caused my breathing to cease and my hazel eyes to focus upon the amber iris's penetrating my vision.

I saw him.

The light striking through the window lit up his pale, marked face as his lips burned black upon his cheeks. His skin seemed worn with age but those eyes were alive with youth and power. The two single dots of his pupils remained transfixed upon myself as he slowly raised the hand that was closest to me; his hand, similarly pale but worn, unfolded with his palm upright towards me. Was it a signal? What was he doing? More importantly, what was I doing to attract his attention? The thoughts coursed through my mind. I had not done anything to disturb him. I had not done anything to disrupt anyone here. It was only me - _insignificant me._ I was one to blend in with the crowd, swallowed up in the human existence, then and only then could I isolate myself in my hatred for who they are and what they do.

It was with that exact thought that those pupils shot into two distraught and confused pinpoints of emotion. He withdrew his hand with alarming speed, inhaling quickly as I gasped with a crushing sense of fear. He swiftly drew closer to me and grasped my wrist within his fingers, leading me from the ballroom and through the double doors ahead.

My instinctive reaction was to run back into the company of those who I knew opposed to this stranger. Yet, I couldn't. I remained within his clutch as I followed him down the flights of stone steps to the rain swept streets of Manhattan. My geographical knowledge failed me, bar the United Kingdom, and my natural fear of the unknown – in this case the extreme unknown – sent wave after wave of panic and fear through my nerve system. Like a drug substance, the inconceivable idea of the present situation began to drown all conscious thought and I lost pace with the figure dragging me from the building. My legs buckled with uncertainty and gravity inevitably stole my balance.

I only felt the oncoming sensation of vertigo for a millisecond before my body was supported by alternate means. Struggling, I pushed back my eyelids with the remaining energy fueled by a complex mixture of consternation and intrusiveness. The rain fell upon my face as I focused my impairing vision upon those two circles of amber, watching me from above. Oddly, I could have sworn that they foretold an emotion.

Anxiety?


	2. Who Exactly Are You?

**Chapter Two ~ Who**_** Exactly Are You?**_

I finally came to. The pieces of my consciousness fell into place as I attempted to open my eyes; they were heavy with exhaustion from the previous escalation of my panic. The surrounding area blurred before me and I tilted my head to the side, inhaling deeply before I first heard him again.

"You are in Central Park," there was a short shuffle of movement and I could sense the presence of someone beside me, "there is no cause for panic or distress."

"…Where?" I managed to whisper, successfully focusing my vision and gazing up at the branches sheltering my recumbent body. They were still with the absence of wind, and I could just pinpoint a few stars burning in the night sky. Alas, the harsh city ambiance overthrew their natural, glinting radiance.

I propped myself up and took in the scenery encircling me. I knew what Central Park was, but his details of our current location seemed pointless as we just seemed to be sat in the lofty branches of a tree. My years of forestry tuition with my father gave me a keen eye for tree species and my eyes squinted at the leaves that surrounded us.

"Elm…" I muttered to myself, reaching out to stroke a leaf until my company interrupted my thoughts.

"You are familiar with trees?" He asked, intrigued.

I shuffled to lean back against the hefty branches. My tight black dress and heels restricted my movements greatly, but I managed to sit myself in a good enough seat to be able to see him properly.

He sat opposite; a lamppost not far from our tree lit up his ivory skin. He had some sort of tribal markings etched into his face: down his forehead, across his nose. I was astonished that I had not noticed his hair before. It lay still over his shoulders; long, thin and white. His complexion seemed calmer with a sense of curiosity as he would not remove his eyes from my own. I, on the other hand, could not help examine him and his clothing, which was none like I'd seen. To no surprise it was dark; the torso piece laced with markings with extravagant fabrics and it fell over his knees like a tunic. The belt attracted my attention almost instantaneously. Could it be gold? I could only guess at this point in time. It seemed to resemble a tree, some sort of mythical tree; perhaps it was an emblem of his people - or maybe a sign of stature or wealth? For now, I could only assume both were correct.

My evaluation of his appearance still didn't satisfy my interest and so I resorted to asking him. However, I found my determination faltering as he became amused at my bewilderment.

"Who…who are you?"

"I am Nuada, son of Balor. And before you ask, no – I am not human. I am an Elf. Now, I ask for your name girl."

"An Elf?" I began, but his eyes narrowed with sternness and so I answered his question, "Heather…why have you brought me here? What do you want?"

It felt stupid to ask, but there was no other way I could ever gain the answers I so desperately needed. He seemed to pause and he finally broke his gaze from my face and instead looked out to the city surrounding the peaceful sanctuary of Central Park.

"Heather…" His lips moved soundlessly as I failed to read them before he switched his attention back to me. "Who exactly are you?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but found no words to answer. _Who was I?_ I honestly had no idea. I could tell him where I lived, what I did for a living but I knew these were not the answers for the question he had asked.

Oddly, my silence seemed to satisfy him as he bowed his head slowly in acknowledgment.

"For now, you will accompany me until we have a better opportunity to talk."

"What's wrong with now?" I asked, confused as to what would stop us from discussing the current situation here. Then again – we were sat in a _tree._

He merely stood and offered a hand in my direction. I saw no option but to take it and no sooner had I done so, we were walking down Park Avenue, and at quite a pace. The city seemed to blur at my sides as we strode down the streets, the poor lighting disguising Nuada's standout appearance. The frequent flash of car headlights however, allowed me to catch a glimpse of those acute, Elven ears of his – truly, their most common feature.

Before I had chance to assess the situation, we were approaching one of New York's towering bridges and a few signs had clued me in to know that it was Brooklyn Bridge. What on earth were we here for? I still mused to myself why I let this supposed Elf drag me across the boroughs of New York, there was no rationality for it – but I couldn't stop myself. Whether it is out of intrigue or fright, I couldn't leave his side.

I followed his swift footsteps to the buildings beneath the bridge, their bricks crumbling around metallic framework of some sort. I easily ignored anything that may have scared me as I was concentrating enough on keeping up with the Elven man. He abruptly paused in his pace and turned causing me to almost collide headfirst with him, but he caught my elbows and held me still before he cautioned to me.

"You are to stay by my side, do you understand? This place is nothing like the markets you deal with here – if you get lost, you get sold. You must _always_ stay with me."

I nodded in acknowledgement, not too certain of exactly where he was taking me, but now (no thanks to his warning) I became deathly frightened of it. Just as he placed his hand on the handle to some sort of metallic wall, I spoke up.

"Nuada…" His amber eyes scanned my facial expression, "where exactly are you taking me?"

The answer I received was not vocal - it was visible. His pale hands slid the metal door with ease and opened up a short passageway to the underground world beyond. My shock took form of a gasp and the dilating of my pupils as I watched the scenery unravel before me. It was like nothing I could have ever imagined, _let alone seen_. The caverns of underground Brooklyn spread far and wide in every direction; metallic and stone pillars held up the rocky rooftop encrusted with dripping stalactites. The flooring was a mass of activity and life - and neither was of the human variety. Creatures of all shapes and sizes, colours and textures, religions and origins, bustled through the subterranean market place. Various beasts with fewer limbs but half as many eyes floated behind wicker stalls, bartering in their prehistoric languages over the sale of some sort of stones and jewels. Tentacled demons chorused to the streets of their 'pretty little fish' that they were busy slicing and gutting with one of their many feelers. Brutish trolls and ogres forced their way through the congestion of mythological beings, carrying token clubs and axes whilst grunting a few sullen words to one another in amusement.

My bones seemed to shudder within my skin, and my eyes were refusing to believe exactly what they were viewing. The sensation was only worsened as Nuada took hold of my wrist yet again and began weaving his agile frame through the crowded stalls.

Every sensory organ was overpowered with foul odors, bizarre sounds, peppery tastes, viscous textures and far-fetched sightings. How could I convince myself this was real? I stared down at the hand that pulled me eagerly along; Nuada sifted his way through 'til he arrived to a shop and began inquiring after something in, what I could only presume was, his native Elven tongue.

The creature behind the counter of barrels seemed extremely uneasy with the presence of the Elf and replied in a hasty dialect of his own. His words only seemed to anger Nuada as he slammed his free hand down against the tail of the shopkeeper, which was resting on the wooden barrels. The creature recoiled, one of its triple heads sinking into its rolls of skin whilst the other two shrunk in size, muffling his foreign words.

I was never good with languages, I had a brief encounter with French and German in High School, but that was the extent of my knowledge – but something in my mind picked out the phrase in which the shopkeeper addressed his costumer.

"_Prince_ Nuada?"

And you thought I couldn't get more gob smacked in my current situation.

Nuada paused, he didn't turn to look at me but I knew that he had business to attend to rather than explain to me his true identity. That was it for me. I'd reached my breaking point and either I was seriously losing my mind, or I was with an Elven Prince bartering in a Troll Market underneath Brooklyn Bridge to a foreign demon with three heads – one of which had disappeared beneath its skin, and the other two were watching me with its lopsided and numerous eyes.

It was soon obvious which was more likely. And I had to do whatever it took for me to try and regain what little sanity that still existed within my mind.

I didn't need to pull hard; the Prince's grip was strong, but my wrists have always been delicately thin and he lost his grip in a matter of seconds. I turned with my newfound freedom and ran. Where to? I had no idea. But where from – now, that I knew. However, it proved more difficult than I thought. Especially in an evening dress and heels.

It wasn't long before my dress ripped up the side seam to my knees, which did give me the added bonus of increased movement – but it was such a lovely dress. I slid my way frantically through the crowds, my hands up by my shoulders in fist shapes – just so that I wouldn't come in contact with any of the questionable substances that were being sold. I kept my head down and made for the easiest route through, Nuada's words echoed between my ears and it kept me driven to escape. I would not be sold as a human slave or pet to any of these creatures.

Unfortunately, the underground flooring wasn't the smooth paved streets of my world, and I soon fell to my knees when the heels of my shoes sunk within the hidden crags beneath. I was stuck. Edged between what I thought were people's knees and cages rattling as their contents raged furiously with captivity, I began to panic. If I let myself faint here and now, I knew that I would not wake within an Elm tree next time I woke. Ever so quickly, I was discovered.

"What's this? A human?"

"A _human_?!"

"In the troll market?"

"She's _mine_!"

"Hey, wait a minute – you can't just…"

The conversation between the monstrous sellers was abruptly cancelled as the hefty troll, one hand previous on my shoulders, collapsed beside me. I wasn't surprised – he does smell particularly awful. But that wasn't the reason.

"Back away from the girl."

_Nuada_? _What was he doing?_ As the crowd around me withdrew, I looked up from my knees to see him stood before me, protectively.

"B-but Prince Nuada, she's a _human_!"

He _definitely_ was royalty of some form if a brutish ogre would subdue to his command.

"And she is under my protection." He knelt down, sweeping me off the cold stone floor into his arms. I had little choice but to allow him to do so, he was more welcoming than the traders after all.

The crowd remained silent as we exited; erupting into whispering gossip once he'd left their proximity. I kept my head close to his chest; it was far more pleasant than what could be watching as we departed.

As soon as we were clearly back along the streets of New York, he placed me on my feet as I removed my broken heeled shoes. I sensed his displeasure.

"I warned you to stay with me…you could have gotten yourself traded to any form of demon that walked those streets! Did you have _any idea_ what you were doing, where you were going?!"

"No, but – "

"Exactly." His one word silenced me. I sighed and looked around, avoiding his penetrative gaze. "Heather, listen to me…you do not know the horrors of my world, you would not stand a chance on your own. Never leave my side again when we are in such company, _do you understand_?"

I couldn't help my reaction, this was all too out of control.

"And who are you to order me around?! _I_ am an adult. _I_ do as _I_ please. You swept me away from my family at that party, stole me away to a tree, dragged me into the depths of the city, pulled me into a mythological trade market and _now_ you expect me to just obey you as if you were my Prince?!" I laughed at my words, how dubious they were. "Am I losing my mind? All of this, it's not right, not logical…it couldn't – it _shouldn't _be true!"

"But it _is._" My violent yelling contradicted his calm, articulate whispers. They were more piercing than you would know. His focus on me lapsed as he exhaled a sigh and circled me slowly. "I guess I should have explained. There was just something," he reached out a hand towards my cheek, his fingers – not touching – but caressing the air that lingered beside them, "something about you. Your thoughts, your wants, your fears…channeled alongside mine. I could not let you stay in that room while Wink…" He trailed to a standstill, his brow twitching as if trying to shrug off some sorrowful doubt.

"While Wink…did what?"

He stood firm, those amber eyes melting into my memories as his breathed hitched slightly before he answered.

"Killed them."


	3. I Would Give Up This Life of Being Human

**Chapter Three ~ **_**I Would Give Up This Life of Being Human**_

My heart skipped a beat. Those people in that room: some relatives, and some friends…were dead. _Murdered_ - by him. And yet, when I gave it serious thought, all of those shallow, pathetic excuses for human beings were no longer here to help destroy this earth. That inclination allowed me to sigh, not with anguish…but with _relief._

I refused to know the details for now, but I was lost in an unknown city with no immediate means of getting home safe and dry. And so, I willingly followed Nuada. I was far too overwhelmed for one day to truly focus upon where exactly he was taking me, although no sooner had we left the market, we arrived at a second entrance to an underground location. This though, was the opposite from my previous encounter with supernatural dwellings.

In fact, it was beautiful. The area we descended from was some sort of park, and he lead me down a secluded passage to a series of open caverns and walkways, inevitably leading to a large manor built within the colossal roots of the woodland above.

He advised that I should sleep, and agreed upon discussing everything once I had recovered from the hectic activities of the earlier hours. He ushered some sort of pixie like creature to show me to a vacant room and I followed, too tired to argue. We were not alone in the house; it was filled with creatures busy with household activities and duties. Presumably, they were servants.

And before I knew it, I was asleep in a room. Four wooden walls, with stiff roots tangling their way down the supportive pillars and bed frame. Strangely, my sleep proceeded dreamlessly, which is odd after such an abnormal day. After all, when was the last time that anyone had been kidnapped by an Elven Prince and so on and so forth?

***

I woke.

Due to my residence being below ground, I could not see whether it were day or night. A few candles were dotted around the petite room, dimly lighting up the wooden furniture. Sitting upright, I routinely rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand before noticing the cloth hanging from a root shoot, acting as a hook. Examining it, I realized it was a dress and appeared to have been woven from some form of thin, deeply green silk-like fabric. Tempted by its luxurious texture, I removed my torn evening gown and replaced it with the emerald attire.

It fit, who'd have known. I had no mirror to fully analyze my look, but from a downward glance it was nothing but beautiful. It attractively clung to my chest and waist and fell, flowing off my hips. The sleeves came to my elbows with loose, translucently white cloth draping elegantly from the end seam. Every childhood fantasy of being a fairy princess seemed a fingertip reach away.

I was lost in its femininity that I didn't notice the masked figure enter the bedroom. My startled reaction made no difference to the calm, painted expression on its facial concealment and I watched and mirrored the bow it gave me.

"Prince Nuada awaits you for your awakening meal, Miss."

"I, um…thank you," I nodded hesitantly before the masked figure left; the pointed ears suggested that it was also of the Elf kind.

Glancing down at my dress, I pondered on just what awaited for me to eat and Nuada…_Prince Nuada_…the images I'd seen of him drifted in front of my eyes and I took a moment to witness our previous conversations in my memories. It was all halted when I realized that I had no idea where he waited for me. Shit.

Picking up the ends of the gown, I headed out the door and down a winding thin passageway of steps, wrapped tightly around the vast roots of the trees above. Slowing for balance, I stepped down into a hallway of some sort and took a second to take into account the sheer size of the area before concentrating on the occupants within it. Again, some were Elves, but the majority was of other weird and wondrous species. They all appeared solemn and quiet, all wearing long flowing fabrics, again decorated with the distinct mythological threadwork.

Then I saw him – how could I have missed him actually. He wore black from head to toe, but his outfit was a lot more casual than yesterday's. The silk fell loosely from his shoulders, exposing most of his chest that was similarly marked with those tribal etchings like his face.

He strode straight towards me, half of his ivory toned hair tucked behind an ear and the rest flowing smoothly off his shoulders. Those black slits that were his lips opened into a slight grin as he stood before me on the staircase and his amber eyes briefly scanned my new, experimental dress sense. I must admit, his attention to detail was shocking to find in a male – and his handsome appearance and natural mysterious charm caused a blushing tinge to cover my cheeks as he commented.

"I knew that emerald would suit _your_ complexion." I took the final step down so that I was before him. He reached out a hand, stroking the locks of hair that framed my face. "It represents the green foliage of nature, whilst your hazel eyes and brown hair symbolize the earth."

The comparison of me to something I envisioned so beautifully spread the blush further and I turned my head from his hand to keep it hidden childishly.

"I believe I promised you an explanation, did I not?" My attention quickly returned to him as his body shifted towards the hall which stretched on down through the underground architecture. "Walk with me," he concluded, so I did and he told me the tale of his people.

***

Our walk finished a fair distance from his residence where the below-ground tunnel drew to a halt at a fresh water spring, rolling down the rocks and into a pool. It provided enough life for trees and foliage to grow in the surrounding area. The path beneath us was lined with a grassy turf, and I took seat on a nearby rock whilst listening to Nuada's final lines of his story.

"Now that the humans have destroyed their truce to stay within the cities of earth, and are burning, killing the forests that belonged to us – the magical creatures – they must be punished for their ignorance. They cannot continue to live when all they do is wreak havoc, pain and evil on a world that was a blessing for them." His eyes narrowed with the intense emotion of his words, "I will not let them end this world for their own, twisted benefit; all they have ever done is corrupt the natural order of life – "

"- So that they could control more of it." I finished, sighing deeply and staring at the reflection of myself in the water's surface. "Human's are the ugliest of creatures. They are so ignorant to what they have been given, and instead they crush everything and everyone around them for their own, unnatural and infinite greed…"

"That ignorance cannot go unnoticed any longer. I will take the crown pieces of Bethmoora, raise the Golden Army from their slumber and take back what is rightfully ours – give this world a better chance at flourishing its true beauty."

My intent focus on the reflection of the water left me blind as the Elf Prince took a seat beside me. Only when his mirrored image appeared beside mine in the pool's calm surface did I acknowledge his close proximity, to which I immediately stood up and paced around the water's edge.

"Now that I understand…it leaves me with one last question to ask of you. Why - ?" I had barely begun when he stood, raising a finger to his lips to motion my silence. I hushed as he continued to answer the question I hadn't even asked.

"I am an Elf, you know this, and I am one of many magical creatures that have walked this earth. My senses and natural intuition is heightened to a level far greater than any human can or will ever achieve. Therefore, I am aware of many more details that you will never truly understand," he leant further over the rock, gazing deep below the water's shimmering surface, "and when I was exiting that building last night, I sensed a link – an_ impossible_ link. But it was there, and it only took a matter of seconds for me to locate exactly whom this chain was connected to."

"Link? I don't understand…" I began; again he interrupted with the answer.

"Now you know of my story, my purpose, do you agree or disagree?"

I paused, not really needing to assess the question as it was obvious to me what the answer was. I nodded in agreement.

"You are unlike those of your species, and I could tell that within a heartbeat – "

"- I would give up this life of being human." I finished once again, knowing exactly what he was about to say. The curving of his lips proved me to be correct as he stood, turning to face me head on.

"You may appear to be human, but your spirit is far more beautiful and free than those of your kind. I could not condemn someone such as yourself to death when you view the world and all its beauty as sacredly as I do."

His words were like a breath of fresh air after hibernation in a cold, clogged winter. I had met this being yesterday, and already he knew me as well as I knew myself – my true self. He was, indeed, unlike any human in the world and his words lulled me into a sense of hesitant security. I did not know much, but what I knew was enough.

"You do not belong with them. You belong with us - with me, _here_."

I had waited twenty-three years of my life to hear that, and know that it was true and to have the chance to fulfill it.

Swaying in the non-existent breeze, my heart and mind were already combined in agreement for my abandonment of this life, of being human. I was on the brink of collapsing willingly within his arms until a voice broke our patient silence.

"Brother."

My eyes flickered down the path on which we'd walked to see a girl, an Elven girl, of great similarity to the Prince that stood by my side. And before I could ask, he was walking towards her, open armed and welcoming. He clarified their connection with the reply.

"Sister," their gentle embrace seemed hesitant within my company as the girl seemed wary of me, but held her brother lovingly, "how have you been dear Nuala? Are you well?"

"Very well, my brother. Father sends his word, he asks to see you. He wishes you would not abandon us for exile for much longer," they held each other's arms momentarily before Nuada's hands dropped loosely to his sides and he shifted his gaze to the side.

"I will see _your_ King on my terms, when I am ready." His distaste for his father was boldly harsh, contrasted strikingly to the love he shared with his sister. Twin sister, I imagined, their likeness was far too great and their connection was far too obvious.

"Brother, please…" she begged of him, but hushed as he turned his attention to me and offered a hand in my direction.

"This is Heather, she is a friend," His smile shifted from the girl to me, "this is Nuala, my sister."

I had no idea what else to do, so I merely nodded still mesmerized by her glowing amber eyes. Larger and warmer than her brother's I might add.

"It is my pleasure to meet you, Heather," she bowed her head in recognition and smiled sweetly before she walked over and linked arms with me, "will you accompany me back to the manor? There, we can talk together."

She had already begun walking and I followed, delighted by her manners and charm. Maybe it was a trick of the Elves, but they _all_ seemed to have me captivated. As I passed Nuada, the smirk twitching from the corner of those aphotic lips eased my nerves and I knew, with him, my life was never going to retain its once normal balance.


End file.
